Trash the Dress
by Nightlightiscoolbro
Summary: Trash the Dress. Such a stupid idea. Ally and Austin are married, but there's one more photo-shoot. What will happen? Will everything go right? Or will Ally get hurt? She could die, for all Austin knows... ONE-SHOT. Possibly sad. Rated T for injury and sadness. Try it, please? DISCLAIMER: Don't own Austin & Ally, wish I did, though.


**I FEEL AWFUL FOR WHAT I'M ABOUT TO PUT YOU THROUGH.**

_Ally's POV_

Bliss. Pure bliss.

Austin and I were finally married. It felt wonderful. Like I finally had that one missing piece tucked safely into the puzzle. I didn't have to worry about anyone stealing him away because he loves me. He is mine, I am his. No question.

A few days after our wedding and honeymoon (today), we are doing one last photo-shoot. Something called "Trash the Dress."

I'd read about it online. It was a recent phenomenon among young women my age. To most it would seem stupid. What you do is you find creative ways to destroy your wedding dress, and have someone take pictures of it.

And so, of course, I hired a photographer that specialized in Trash the Dress. Austin did not like the idea, though. He kept saying that I might get hurt, and he, "wouldn't know what to do without you (me)." I reassured him (with a kiss) that I'd be fine.

_Austin's POV_

I don't like this. I don't want to think about the possibility of Ally getting hurt. She's my world, my life. What would I do without my Ally-cat?

Today's the day for her Trash the Dress crap. I feel so uneasy. Can't we be a normal couple and just keep the dress for our kids? Or sit and watch a romantic movie? Or eat snakes? Anything but watch Ally almost die.

But I can't change her mind. So it's happening, whether I like it or not.

"Honey, please, please don't do this," I begged her before we went off to the shoot.

"Austin, I'll be fine. I promise," she said. She leaned up to kiss me.

"I'll be your ladder," I said, starting our little ritual.

"I'll make sure," she winked, "to climb."

With her dress, the absolutely gorgeous one where she'd gotten married to, oh yeah, me, hanging in the back of my car, we set off.

The shoot was being held at the waterfall that was about twenty minutes away from our apartment. This made me uneasy, too, because we didn't have a lifeguard. She would be standing right under the waterfall.

We drove right up to the waterfall way too soon. I didn't like what might happen next. I wish Dez was here to help me.

"Austin," Ally said.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry. 'Kay?"

I nodded. But just in case, I kissed her one more time.

She went to go change while I talked to the photographer.

"Will she be safe?" I questioned.

"Probably," the photographer said.

Probably?! NOT the answer I want.

"Ready!" Ally came out of the bathroom. The amazing sweetheart-neckline wedding dress looked so wonderful on her that I nearly melted. Again.

"Yes, darling, stand over here. Be careful," he said, pointing to a spot directly under the waterfall. Right next to some rocks and churning water.

She did as he said, laughing and smiling for the camera. She looked like the water was hurting her though.

"Ally," I called out, "are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied. Her hand was above head in an attempt to block some water.

"Mrs. Moon," the photographer said. I still love that that's her name now...

"Yes?"

"Could you move forward a tiny bit?" She did as he said.

And that's when my worst fears came into focus. As her feet scuffled forward, one foot caught on something. Her arms wind-milled, but to no avail, and she fell.

Straight toward the rocks and water.

She screamed as she fell, in slow motion to my fear-paralyzed brain. A sickening, vomit-inducing _crack!_ echoed when a part of her- her head?- hit a rock. She lay limply in the water with blood streaming from her forehead. But that wasn't all. Her heavy dress, now sodden with water, was dragging her down and downstream.

"Ally!" I shouted, snapping out of my horror. The photographer and the two other men working dropped all of the equipment quickly and ran to her as well. But I was first.

I reached out and attempted to grab her, but she eluded my grasp. The cold water burnt my fingers, and I ran down the sandbar-like patch of land that extended into the water. My fingers finally found purchase on the bottom of her now-tattered dress. I tugged and the two other men helped.

When we got her onto land, I immediately checked her pulse. My heart was throbbing exponentially faster than usual due to panic and premature grief. Her pulse was there... I think.

"Ally," I begged, shaking her shoulder. Her head lolled to the side. "Ally!" I cried. Nothing.

Tears welling in my eyes, I remembered my recent CPR class.

Pushing down on her chest with my hands in the correct fist position, I counted and begged that this would work. The men, already mournful, stood by. Tilting her head in the correct position, I whispered before breathing into her, "Please. You promised."

Breathing life into her, or at least attempting to, the tears in my eyes spilled over. Thoughts of long hours writing songs, sleepovers, kisses, music, sadness, fear, Trish, Dez, love, and anything I'd even remotely associated with Ally flooded and swirled my mind like a hurricane.

When I pulled back, she didn't move, just continued to bleed, so I repeated the process. "You. Have. To. Wake. Up!" I shouted. The tears were quickly becoming sobs.

She couldn't leave me. No. Not when we'd just started such a wonderful new chapter in our lives. We were supposed to live happily ever after. We were the good guys. The good guys weren't supposed to die! I don't think I could live without Ally. She owned too much of my heart. She'd take it right with her if she left me.

"Please, Ally, please. I need you to wake up. Please," I whispered on her forehead.

"I called 9-1-1," the photographer announced, "They're on their way."

Just then, a miracle that I thanked God dearly and forever for happened.

Ally's eyes fluttered open. "Austin?" she murmured. Then she coughed violently.

"Oh, thank God! Ally, please, don't scare me like that!"

A tiny smile fit her expression as her eyes drooped.

"No!" I shouted, "Keep your eyes open. Please. I need to see your eyes..."

"My head hurts..." she said.

"I know, baby, I know. It won't hurt for long. I promise. The paramedics are coming."

As soon as the words escaped my lips, an ambulance wee-wooing it's head off pulled up. Out rushed two paramedics, one girl, one guy, carrying a stretcher.

"She's over here!" shouted one of the men who had been helping me pull her out of the water.

They rushed over, quickly examined her, and put her on the stretcher. I grabbed her hand and ran with them.

"Will she be alright?" I asked, silently begging.

"Not sure-" Again, not an answer I'd like to hear- "Are you related to her? Part of her family?" said the woman setting Ally into the ambulance.

"I'm her husband."

"You can come along, then."

I quickly climbed into the back of the vehicle, right beside Ally, grateful I didn't have to beg.

The male paramedic was back here with me. He began to hook her up to various machines and then clean her forehead. A slow beating filled the car as it kicked into drive.

"Is that her heart rate?" I asked worriedly. If it was, it was way lower than it should be.

"Yes."

My hand became like a vise on hers. I was so petrified. What if she left?

"How long was she stuck in the water?" he asked.

"About one or two minutes."

"And she wasn't moving?"

"Yeah."

"You're very lucky. She should be at the bottom of that river. I guess you're in God's favor."

Just that she should be dead was enough to make me bawl my eyes out like a child. I was on my knees, both hands on her one hand, kissing it and stroking it. The male paramedic didn't look as uncomfortable as most would.

Ally's eyes rolled back slightly in her head, and a deafening, hollow _beeeeepp!_ filled the vehicle.

"She's stopped breathing!" the male paramedic shouted.

The vehicle sped up, and the man began to perform CPR on her. That's the second time today...

My mind deflated. It had no substance. Ally... When that cold beep sounded out, "Your love is dead! Your love is dead!", it was like I just shut down. No words, no beeps, no tears. Just a silent swallowing of my soul. If she had left, then she had plucked out my heart and taken it with her. She's the life threads that keep my heart from shattering on the ground and killing me. And she'd just ripped out half of those lovely threads.

But then, a tiny sound infiltrated my under-siege brain. It was again a slow, uneven heartbeat.

"She's back!" the man said.

I looked down. She looked the same in every way, but to me, she'd never looked more beautiful.

We were at the hospital suddenly, and they quickly stopped, jumped out, and steamrolled anyone in their way as they rushed into the Emergency Room. I quickly followed, but was not allowed into the actual room with her.

Waiting directly outside, I ran my hands through my hair. The tears were back. There'd been so many presages... How had I not noticed? I hated myself for not being able to protect my Ally-Cat.

I sat there in pure heck for longer than I should have. Trying to distract myself, I daydreamed about a happy life with Ally, past and future. Meeting her for the first time. Writing our first song together. Accidentally almost sending her away forever. Being jealous. Our first date. My first heartbreak. The joy of finally getting back together. Admitting to her and myself that I was- am- in love with her. Proposing. Marrying her. The honeymoon. And our future... I'd do anything for her. No matter how ridiculous or long-term. Kids? No problem with me. Dez and Trish would have a blast being an aunt and uncle.

The one constant thing was that I just wanted to hold her. That was most definitely my favorite pastime. She would be safe in my arms, that was for certain.

"Mr. Moon?" a nurse popped her head out.

I shot up and said, "Yes? Is she alright?"

"She wants to see you."

I gulped, hoping this wasn't like all those chick-flicks she'd made me see. Like the ones where the sick/injured one called in their lover right before they died.

"Ally-Cat?" I said softly, stepping into the room almost shyly.

"Austin!" she smiled.

Her head was wrapped with a long white stretch of gauze, red dotting the outside, but not as much as it would have been earlier. She was sitting up, showing off a gorgeous hospital robe. The best part, though, was her smiling face echoed the steady beat of the heart monitor.

"Alls!" I said. Timidness forgotten, I ran over to her a gripped her in a tight hug. "Let this be real. Let this be real," I said into her shoulder.

"I'm sure it's real, sweetheart," she whispered.

Not being able to handle myself, I crashed our lips together. I felt more secure than I'd felt all day when she kissed back. It was slow and tender, filled with a burning love that meant we would surely lose ourselves if we lost one another.

"You had me so worried," I breathed out, leaning my forehead down on hers.

"Hey Austin?" she said.

"Yes?"

"You were right. Trash the Dress was dumb and dangerous."

I chuckled. "You got that right."

"Promise me we're not letting our daughter do that," she said.

"Daughter?" I smiled.

"Promise."

"One hundred percent."

"Alright," she said. She sat back smiling as I stroked her hand with my thumb.

A knock came at the door. I got up, kissed Ally's hand, and answered the door. There stood a female doctor with a clipboard. "May I come in?" she asked softly.

"Um, sure," I stammered, afraid of what she had to say.

"Well," she said to Ally, "I've got good news."

"Yes?" I asked.

"She should be fine. As long as you keep her on the meds for awhile, and don't do anything to energy-consuming. Basically, for a week or two, sit at home and watch TV."

"Is that all?" I asked, relieved.

"Yep. You can leave after they come give your stuff and a wheelchair."

"Wheelchair?" I asked.

"We don't really want her to walk yet. She lost a lot of blood."

With a thank-you and goodbye, she left the room, leaving Ally and I behind.

"I'm so glad you're safe," I said.

She smiled. "My lips hurt a little. Will you kiss them better?"

"Of course," I said. Pressing my lips to hers, I felt her relax into the kiss. When I pulled back, I kissed her nose and said, "All better?"

"Hmmm..." she tapped her chin in mock thought, "My cheek hurts a little."

Slowly and gently, I kissed her cheek. She leaned into it, and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. "I'm so sorry, Austin."

"For what?" I murmured on her cheek, hugging her back.

"Scaring you."

"Just don't do it again," I held her tighter to me, not letting go.

**HEY GUYS. I HAD THIS IDEA A COUPLE MONTHS AGO WHEN I WAS WATCHING THE NEWS. THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT HOW TRASH THE DRESS HAD KILLED SOME WOMEN, AND HOW IT WAS VERY DANGEROUS. IT MADE ME THINK ABOUT THE BRAND-NEW HUSBANDS AND FAMILIES THOSE WOMEN LEFT BEHIND. THEY MUST HAVE BEEN DEVASTATED.**

**IT KINDA REMINDED ME OF AUSLLY, SO I WROTE THIS. I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOYED THIS AT LEAST PARTIALLY. I ALSO HOPE I HAVE ALERTED YOU TO THE GROWING THREAT OF TRASH THE DRESS. BE CAREFUL.**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. PLEASE BE SAFE. NO FLAMES, PLEASE. LOVE AND GOD BLESS, NIGHTLIGHTISCOOLBRO.**


End file.
